Holy Siorai, he is handsome.

I’ve never courted a boy, nor have I been interested in anyone. Yet, as I stare at this man, a slight fluttering sensation occurs in my stomach. That is until Cara intertwines her hand in his and lightly pecks him on the cheek.

“Maeva appears to be awestruck by you, Gawain,” Aria teases.

It’s only then that I realize I’m still staring at the splendid man in front of me. Blushing, I quickly round the table to sit by Aria. They’ve already ordered a round of ale for the both of us, as well as appetizers. I take a gulp of ale before speaking.

“I must apologize for being so rude. I am sure Cara has told you all that I am not much for socializing,” I say softly.

“She’s mentioned you are a bit of a recluse,” Enid teases. “Don’t worry, after a night out with us, you won’t feel that way anymore.”

“Here, here,” Gawain toasts—in the most surprisingly high-pitched voice I’ve ever heard.

Well, that is unexpected.

I bite my lip to keep a laugh from bubbling out. I quickly take another large gulp of ale. This beautiful man should have a voice that reverberates through a cave, making the creatures within fearful; the kind that angels write minstrels about. Instead, it sounds more like a creaking door or a squeaky mouse. There is nothing wrong with his voice, but it was not what I was expecting from a man of his… caliber.

“Gawain suffered a throat injury in his adolescence, which damaged his vocal chords. That’s the reason his voice is quite… peculiar,” Aria whispers in my ear.

My cheeks heat.

It’s as if she read my thoughts.

“I apologize,” I whisper. “ I don’t mean to be ill-mannered. It’s just not?—”

“What were you expecting from him?” she asks, cutting me off.

I nod.

“Don’t feel bad,” Aria says with a shrug. “He’s used to it by now, and it doesn’t bother him when others mention it. He came to terms with it a long time ago.”

“You two must be very close if you know him so well,” I retort.

I wince as soon as the words leave my mouth. I made it sound more like an accusation than a statement. Try as I might, my tone of voice sounds abrasive to those who do not know me or my intentions well. It’s caused me to get into quite a few tussles as a teenager.

Aria smiles, like she didn’t notice the brazenness in my tone. “Yes, we are quite close, since he is my older brother,” she says with fondness. “We grew up in poverty, and our parents left much to be desired. So, we often relied on one another to keep our family afloat.” She nods her head to the left. “Cormac was our neighbor growing up and my brother’s closest friend. Well, at least until your sister came along last year and melted his heart.”

Gawain and Cara’s heads are bent close together as she laughs at something he said. Gawain angles his face to admire her more fully and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. She looks so happy at this moment. This is all I could’ve hoped for my sister—to find a good man to love and eventually make a home with him. It seems she is pretty close to that, and seeing her joyful is better than any ability I could ever hope to gain today.

Cara notices me and smiles brightly in my direction before lifting her tankard and clearing her throat. “Let’s toast,” she says proudly. “ToMaeva. She conquered her fears by coming here this evening, and trusting me to plan this little gathering on her behalf. Maeva, may Siorai bless you with a long life and more days to celebrate. Happy Birthday, my dear sister.”

“Happy Birthday,” the group choruses, clinking their tankards together.

The restof the evening is absolutely splendid. Cara’s friends are kind and sociable—causing me to smile at their antics. They even arrange for a small cake to be brought out to the table, at which they boisterously sing a drunken rendition of the song my family sang earlier in the day. Afterward, Cormac whisks me onto the grass to dance to the happy folk tune that plays within the tavern.

Shortly after, the rest of the group joins in the revelry. Cormac is spinning me around when I notice a figure observing us from a far corner of the outdoor tables. It’s too dark to make out any real distinctions, but the hairs on the nape of my neck stand to attention. Perhaps I’m just paranoid after my strange encounter last week. So, I decide to ignore the stranger and opt to enjoy the rest of my evening—even as their gaze continues to linger on me.

After a few more joyous dances, we sit back down for a while longer and the group shares about their lives. I realize I actually enjoy listening to their stories. They’re all from a nearby village that’s a twenty-minute ride northwest around the woods’ perimeter. Apparently, their village doesn’t entertain their travelers or have a tavern. So, they made it a tradition to come to Aurelius once a week.

This is how they met Cara.

“The poor thing looked frightened, so Aria made her come sit with us,” Cormac says, smiling.

“It’s a good thing you did,” Cara says sweetly. “Otherwise, I never would’ve gained such wonderful friends.”

Her eyes glance around the table at the ensemble like she is mentally capturing this moment. We continue to talk about our lives over food and ale. I learn that everyone is either a healer or an emotion wielder, like Cara—all except for Cormac, who was born a Null.

“It doesn’t bother you that you do not wield an ability?” I ask curiously.